There was no time to think. The shadow had inched closer to Aisling. It was standing right behind her, black hands raised to remove its hood. Niall flung himself at the window, desperate to reach Aisling before the shadow got her. His skin collided with the void, and he was burning, his body tearing into a hundred tiny pieces. The pain exploded inside him, and—
Niall opened his eyes, blinking until his vision focused on the lattice of cracks across the ceiling of the master bedroom. He’d fallen asleep there after hours of chasing Widdershins around the upper floors, trying to catch him moving through the void. It had all been a dream.
Was it his imagination, or had more cracks appeared since yesterday?
Niall sat up, rubbing his eyes. A shadow stood in the doorway. The hooded shadow? He realized with a start it was Aisling. She was holding a small bowl of porridge.
“I know you missed dinner,” she said, her voice flat. “But I wanted to know you were still eating.”
“Stay.” Niall inched forward in the bed. “I want to talk to you.”
Aisling shook her head. She set the bowl down on the settee, turned on her heel, and left.
Joy surged through Niall’s veins. She was still mad, oh yes. But she had initiated contact with him. He hadn’t ruined everything after all. He leapt to his feet and rushed into the hall. There was still a chance.
“Aisling, wait!”
She whirled around, and he read what he had done to her across her face. The mask she’d worn when she’d given him the food had well and truly been tossed away. Now, he saw her eyes ringed with tears, her nose red and her skin blotchy. He’d really messed up.
“Did you sleep at all?”
“Why do you care?” she shot back.
“I do care,” Niall insisted. “I care.”
“Just leave me alone, Niall.” She paused at the top of the stairs. “Come down when you feel like talking about it, without being an ass.”
He gulped. “I’m sorry.”
“What did you say?”
The words had just slipped out. They sat oddly on his tongue. But he said them again, and knew that he meant them. “I’m sorry. I was afraid, and I took it out on you. I didn’t mean anything I said.”
“You really hurt me.”
“I know. I’m angry at myself for that. You didn’t deserve it.” He dared a little smile. “Did I do this apology thing okay? These are very strange emotions for a fae.”
“You did fine. Perhaps you’re more human than you’d like to admit.”
“Don’t push your luck, witch.” Niall hurtled forward, and swept her into his arms. Aisling pressed her body to him, and he devoured her lips, his tongue entwining hers. The energy that drew him to her swirled around them, pulsing with joy at their reunion.
After a few moments, she pulled away, breathing heavily. “I accept your apology. But Niall … what are you afraid of?”
Niall opened his mouth, ready to tell her everything. That he’d lied about the weapon. That he’d been sending notes to Odiana. That all of this was his fault. But the words wouldn’t come. He’d just apologized for the first time, he wasn’t yet ready to admit the lies. He still wanted her to believe he was her hero.
Instead, he settled on a lie that was very close to the truth. “I think the fae are planning their attack, very soon. Also, I believe time is passing differently in the house.”
“How is that possible?”
“I don’t know, but it would explain why you’ve only lived here fifteen years, while the house has been here for fifty-one.”
Aisling’s eyes widened. “And the dreams. It explains the dreams.”
“It does?”
“Well, it doesn’t explain why we’ve dreamed of each other, but it does explain why you’ve dreamed of me for your whole life, but I’ve only dreamed of you for the last five years. Because I’ve been dreaming of you for your whole life.”
Clever. Niall never would have put that together, but Aisling had.
“You’re right, of course. I think Widdershins has been going somewhere in the house where he stays young. I tried to follow him yesterday, but he’s too fast for me.”
“That’s what you were doing yesterday. I heard all this banging and crashing.”
“If we figure it out before the fae come for us—” She wrapped her arms tight around him, her huge eyes wide. He stroked her hair, letting the silken curls slide through his fingers.
“I will protect you,” he swore. “From whatever they send at us. I’m going to keep you safe.”
He expected her to hold him tighter, but instead, she flinched away. “What is it, Aisling? What did I say?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Something very strange happened last night.”
“What? You can tell me.”
“The lights in the university weren’t on, and I saw two fae by the garden wall.” Aisling’s forehead creased in worry. “They were wearing your uniform.”
Niall’s stomach sank through his legs. That was bad. If they had other Venators surrounding the house, it definitely meant they were planning some kind of major attack.
But why wouldn’t the university be lit? The Quaesitors would be leading an attack, if they had the key to the weapons. The university buildings were the pride and joy of the city, especially during a time of war. They would never be left unlit.
Something else must be going on out there. His note to Odiana must have fallen into the wrong hands. He wasn’t lying now – the fae really were coming.
Niall sucked his breath in. Telling Aisling now wouldn’t change anything. What they had to think about is how to stop the fae. “We’re going to need to think about defending the house,” he said. “How do you feel about brushing up on your magic skills?”
“Only if you give me more sword-fighting lessons. I’ve been drilling the defenses—”
Widdershins darted between their feet, and careened down the staircase.
“What’s he got in his paws?” Niall asked.
“One of those wheat stalks, I think.”
“After him!” Niall dived toward the staircase, leaping down the steps three at a time. If he could find out where Widdershins had gotten that stalk—
“Niall, what are you doing?” He could hear Aisling clattering down the stairs behind him. “Niall, wait for me!”
Widdershins skidded across the marble floor, his back paws sliding out as he made a dramatic ninety-degree turn. He hurtled at the ballroom doors, throwing his weight against them. The door swung open and the cat disappeared inside. A moment later, Niall reached the door and shoved it all the way open. Widdershins was over by the wobbling wall, batting at the piece of maize like it was the best toy in the universe.
“Come here, boy.” Niall took a step toward the cat, his arms outstretched. “Show me what you’ve got there.”
Widdershins looked up at him, and gave him a yellow-eyed glare. He made a particularly acrobatic leap to trap the stalk, and both stalk and cat tumbled backward through the wobbling wall, disappearing into the gilded carvings.
“No!” Aisling shouted from the doorway. Niall grabbed her as she rushed at the wall, holding her back while she kicked and screamed and clawed at his arms.
“You can’t go after him!” he cried. “We don’t know what’s on the other side of that wall. It could be the void.”
She didn’t seem to hear him. In front of them, the wall wobbled, the carvings seeming to rearrange themselves before their eyes.
Aisling’s body went limp. “He’s gone,” she whispered, sinking to her knees in front of the wall. “He was my friend, and he’s gone.”
Tears cascaded down her cheeks. Niall pulled her to him and kissed them away. “I really don’t think he’s gone.”
“He’s in the void,” she sobbed. “Like my sister, and my mother. There’s no way anyone can escape—”
As if on cue, a faint meerrwww came from deep within the house.
Aisling’s head snapped up. “W
iddershins?” She tore herself from Niall’s grasp and yanked open the door of the ballroom. “Widdershins!”
“Meeerrwww!” came the distinctive reply.
Now it was Niall who raced after Aisling. He followed her as she hurtled up the stairs after the cat. She ran left along the upper landing, yelling at Widdershins at the top of her lungs. By the time Niall reached the top of the staircase, the damn cat must have doubled back on itself, because a black smudge whizzed past him, diving into the master bedroom.
He must think this is some kind of wonderful game. Niall ran into the bedroom, his ears pricked for the cat. He needn’t have worried. There, lying demurely on the center of the bed, looking as though he were a king about to pass judgment upon his subjects, was Widdershins. He looked up, and gave a dignified “Merrrw?”
Aisling skidded around the corner and came to stand beside Niall. When she saw Widdershins, she burst out laughing.
“Oh, you ridiculous cat!’ She bent over to sweep him up in her arms. But Widdershins was too fast for her. He dived off the bed, streaked through the room, and squeezed through a hole in one of the large doors at the end of the room.
“What’s in there?” Niall pointed to the large door at the end of the room. He’d tried to explore the door last night, but the room was locked.
“That’s my grandmother’s closet.” Aisling withdrew a small keyring from the loop on her belt, and inserted a key in the lock. “Grandmother June loved dressing up. She kept all these dresses, some of them belonging to my ancestors. She used to have these dress-up balls … nothing as fancy as Lady Greymouth, of course. But they were pretty cool. I keep it locked so Widdershins doesn’t tear up the dresses, but I guess he found another way in.”
Aisling shoved open the door. Cascades of colors assaulted Niall’s eyes. Clothes spilled from racks lining two walls of the enormous room, nearly the same size again as the master bedroom itself. Full-length mirrors were mounted on the end wall and behind the door, reflecting back on themselves like an endless hallway of clones. There were racks for blouses, belts and coats. Rows of black boots and strappy red heels lined a shoe rack beside the mirrors. Makeup and glittering jewels spilled from tall cases. One full rack in the far corner was entirely dedicated to ball gowns, a sea of shimmering satin, lace, and beading.
Niall took it all in, unable to focus on just one detail, so assailed were his senses by all that finery. Aisling beamed as she watched him. She didn’t realize how the fae were attracted to riches, to all beautiful things they longed to possess.
“This isn’t a closet,” he breathed. “It’s a treasure chest. I could fit three of my old apartments in here.”
“I know.” Aisling grinned. “It’s nuts. Women in my family love clothes.”
His eye fell upon something hanging in front of one of the mirrors. Something that never should have existed.
The green dress.
Niall’s mind swirled with the memory of the dream, as real to him as any memory. Aisling in that green dress, twirling and swirling around the ballroom in a graceful waltz, her hair swept back, revealing her graceful neck, and those hips, those glorious hips swaying and shifting in time to the music. He stood mesmerized by the door, trapped under her spell.
“Niall?” Aisling prompted. “Your eyes have gone all glazed. Is something wrong?”
“Of course not.” He forced himself to laugh, trying to make his voice sound normal. “I was just looking for that damn cat of yours.”
“He’s over there under the shoes. The wall behind them wobbles as well. Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve gone all white, like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine, really. Can you get that thing out of his mouth? I need to see what it is.”
Aisling bent down, and dragged Widdershins out. He glared up at Niall with narrowed eyes as Aisling cradled him in his arms. Both his mouth and his paws were empty.
“He must’ve dropped it,” Aisling said. “But how did he get up here, after he disappeared into the wall?”
“I don’t think either of these walls go into the void,” Niall said. “At least, not exactly. I think there might be pockets of the house that exist in another time, or serve as portals to other times. That’s why Widdershins never seems to age.”
“You mean, we could walk through the wall in the ballroom and end up in another time?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a theory, and one that’s far too dangerous to test.” He stared pointedly at her.
“Don’t look at me. I’m staying as far away from anything to do with time travel as possible.” She shuddered. “Knowing my luck, I’d end up fast-forwarding to the time where the only safe room in the whole house is the broom closet.”
Niall grinned. He gestured to the green dress. “Have you ever tried this one on?”
Aisling looked at the dress, and a deep blush came across her face. “Bethany always said that dress wouldn’t suit me. The color would wash me out, and it’s way too clingy.”
“I think she’s wrong. Why don’t you try it on for me?”
Aisling looked ready to argue, but then her face broke out into a brilliant smile that made Niall’s chest tighten. “Why not?” She grabbed the hanger and disappeared behind an ornate Chinese screen at the back of the room.
“You can do that out here,” he called to her, grinning. “I promise I won’t peek.”
“A promise from a fae? We both know that’s not worth the paper it’s written on.“ There was a smile in her voice as she said it, but it made Niall’s guts twist.
He watched her clothes drape over the top of the screen, and the stab in his chest was quickly replaced by something else – a flutter, and a hardening in his trousers. A naked arm rose up, throwing over a scrap of fabric that must have been her bra. He groaned under his breath.
Aisling poked her head around the side of the screen, her naked shoulders smooth and white as milk. “Did you say something?”
Niall shook his head, momentarily lost for words. His hardness pulsed against his thigh.
A few moments later, Aisling shimmied out from behind the screen, the dress hugging every luscious curve of her body. Niall’s tongue froze on the roof of his mouth, and his chest constricted, so his breath came out in a short, sharp gasp.
She had never looked more beautiful. Not even in his dreams. The green of the dress enhanced her pale skin, and made her large brown eyes appear even larger. She had swept her hair back off her face, so her cheekbones stood high and regal, and her long neck swept gracefully from her shoulders. The dress’ straps highlighted the swoop of her collarbone, and the neckline plunged in the center, giving Niall a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage.
Her hands and arms glimmered with a blue aura, the same aura that gleamed from every wall of the house. It lit her skin with an ethereal glow, making her appear otherworldly. How much atern did she have now? It must be tens of thousands of units.
“What do you think?” Aisling asked, a note of anxiety creeping into her voice.
“I think your sister must have been insanely jealous to tell you that dress looked terrible.” He whistled, and Aisling beamed. Niall held out his hand. Aisling stared at his palm for a few long moments, and his heart sank as he realized she was debating whether or not to touch him. She didn’t yet trust him completely. He guessed he couldn’t blame her.
But then she reached out and clasped her hand in his.
Her touch sent a wave of fire through his whole body, his veins burning beneath his skin. Niall angled his body away, so she couldn’t see what she’d done to him.
Grinning, Niall lifted his arm above his head, spinning Aisling around. She laughed as she twirled, the dress fanning out around her shapely legs and clinging to her hips. As she spun back toward him, he tugged on her arm, so that her back fell against his chest, his arms across hers.
Her scent invaded his nostrils – sweet and rich, like lilac flowers and old books, treasures of the past he longed to explore. The sizzling en
ergy passed between their bodies, pulling them together like magnets. But it wasn’t close enough. Niall wanted to be closer, wanted to fall right into her skin, to bury himself in her warmth.
“Let’s go,” he whispered in her ear, relishing the way her body shuddered against his. “We don’t want to be late for the ball.”
He tore his body from hers, but maintained his grip on her hand. His fingers seared with heat as he led her out of the bedroom and down the stairs, her dress flowing out behind her. In the entrance hall, Niall threw open the ballroom doors and escorted her inside.
“What are we doing?”
“Just humor me, please.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to try something dangerous with the wall, are you?”
Niall lifted his gaze to the ballroom ceiling, taking in the gilded animals frolicking across the carved rococo arches, the towering crystal chandeliers covered with dust and cobwebs, the few faint black cracks creeping down the edges of the wall. He remembered the joy of the dream, and how it had turned into his worst nightmare. Maybe this is a mistake.
He pointed to the center of the floor, where the marble had sunk into a dimple. “In my dream, you were dancing, right here. You were wearing this dress. This exact dress. And it was so beautiful, I couldn’t even speak.”
“Why do you look so sad, then?”
“You died. You fell through the floor. I couldn’t save you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “If I die in this moment, wearing this beautiful dress and safe in your arms, then I die happy. I never thought I’d be granted that kindness.”
Behind them, the piano struck a note.
They leapt apart, both their eyes darting to the dusty instrument. The piano stood sentinel in the corner of the room, the bench pulled out as though someone invisible were sitting there. As Niall watched, frozen in place, a key compressed itself, and the note rang out through the room, perfectly clear. And then another, and another, the music forming a beautiful, slow tune.
Hollow: Isa Fae paranormal romance (Fallen Sorcery Book 2) Page 15
